unkissed
by chenrydanger
Summary: Whatever it was Charlotte thought Henry would say when she opened up to him... it definitely wasn’t that.


"Breaking news!"

The familiar sound of Trent Overunder's fancy-reporter-voice fills Henry's living room as Charlotte tosses another piece of popcorn into her mouth. It's only been a few minutes since the latest installment of _Game of Drones_ has ended, and Henry's mediocre level of effort toward channel surfing has landed them on channel seven KLVY, so the two of them, along with Jasper, are half-listening to the headlines as they roll in.

"This just in. A pair of local teenagers reported missing yesterday evening have been found and returned home safely. The two Swellview highschoolers were discovered at a remote spot known by town youngsters as the kissing rock."

Mary Gaperman, the other anchor, steels her gaze and narrows her eyes at the camera. "That's right, Trent. Now, authorities are left with one question." Charlotte groans in anticipation. Whatever is about to come out of Mary's mouth, it's going to be nothing short of incredible.

"Why were these teenagers... kissing rocks?"

This time Henry groans as well and the two of them exchange pained expressions. Onscreen, a dumbfounded Trent shakes his head. "Good God, Mary."

Jasper shifts from where he's seated on Charlotte's other side and his eyebrows knit together. "What? It's a good question."

"Alright." Charlotte yanks the remote from Henry's hand and switches off the television. "That's enough of that."

In her periphery, she can see that Henry is leaning back on the sofa, and the beginnings of a smile tug his lips to the side. She winces. "Oh no. I know that look."

It's like he didn't even hear her. He just sighs contentedly and puts his hands behind his head, leaning back even further. "The kissing rock, man."

She rolls her eyes. "Here we go."

"What?" His tone is defensive, but it's not enough to pull him out of the reminiscent trance he's lost himself in. "I had my first real kiss there, Bianca. Brought Amy there a couple times..."

"I took Courtney there once," Jasper chimes in, then looks to Charlotte apologetically. "You know, before we found out she was... unstable."

The two of them continue listing off names of the various girls they've had the pleasure of accompanying to the infamous rock of adolescent affections and Charlotte feels herself sinking lower and lower into the sofa with each name that comes from their lips.

"God, remember Patina?" Henry sits forward and turns to face Jasper straight on, which means he's starting to encroach on Charlotte's personal space. This isn't something she usually minds too much, but given the circumstances, she's finding it less than pleasant in this particular moment.

"Do I?" Jasper crosses his arms. "I'm still mad she got cured of her allergy to literally everything and decided to go out with Mitch Bilsky instead of me!"

"Yeah... but not before you took her to the rock—!" and they both dissolve into a fit of triumphant laughter and jeering and what could only be described as an attempt at a _yeah, bro_ sort of handshake, and Charlotte would rather be anywhere else in the world than in between the two of them right now.

So she jumps up, pushes through their celebratory fist knocking, and blurts something about having to use the bathroom, like, really badly. And she scurries upstairs, not bothering to look back and gauge their reactions (which, she hopes, are not half as confused by her actions as she is).

. . .

Charlotte hums as she toes the pebbles on the edge of the roof, watching as they fall to the ground below. She's sat on the roof outside Henry's window more times than she can count, but never with the setting sun looming so large before her and casting soft, warm light that paints everything hues of pink and soft red. She sighs softly. It's the kind of marvelous scene that inspires great works of art, or that could make you fall in love with anyone.

"Char?"

Well, almost anyone.

"Gah!" Her hand flies to her chest, where her heart has jumped at the sudden call of her name. "Geez, Hen. Did you have to sneak up on me like that?"

She tries to make it sound light and humorous but Henry doesn't seem to get the joke. He steps out onto the awning and sits beside her. "You didn't come back down. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

She's looking straight ahead because the seriousness in his tone is more than she's prepared to deal with. "Why wouldn't I be okay?"

Henry shrugs beside her. "'Cause me and Jasper can be idiots? I don't know. We were acting pretty stupid down there."

She can't help the little smile that plays on her face, but she suppresses it the best she can. "That is true. You were acting like idiots."

"But?"

"But it wasn't anything you said. It was..." she trails off. What are the right words here? Does she even want to tell him the right words, whatever they are? "It was what I didn't say."

She knows she's not making sense when she peeks to the side and sees the little crinkle above his nose, the one he gets when he's seriously confused. She sucks in a deep breath and hugs her knees to her chest.

"Henry, we're — we're seniors in high school and I've never been to the kissing rock." She lets the words hang in the air for a minute, hating the way it feels to have said something so trivial and make it sound so vulnerable. But for some reason, her stupid mouth keeps going. "I've never kissed anyone."

He looks over at her. She can feel it, his gaze on the side of her face. And even though she doesn't want to, even though her heart is twisting in her chest, begging her to just stare at the ground instead, she turns her head the slightest bit to meet his eyes again.

"It's like, is something wrong with me?"

She laughs a little as she says it, at how pathetic she must sound, but Henry's expression is still grim and unwavering. "No! What? Charlotte, are you kidding? You're—"

"It's okay," she says. She toes the edge of the roof again. More pebbles fall. "I'm just being dramatic—"

"I'll kiss you. Right now."

Her eyes snap up and then her head snaps up and then to the side and she's positive she must have heard incorrectly. No, she can't believe her ears. There is no way he just said that to her, and all she can offer in return is a weak, half-swallowed, "Huh?"

He turns his whole body to face her without breaking eye contact and his eyebrows perk up. He's serious. Her heart flips upside down.

"I don't want you to pity-kiss me, Henry."

"No, it's not—" He runs his hands through his hair and lets out a huffed breath. His voice is softer when he speaks again. "I want you to see that it's not a big deal. At all. You won't even think anything of it."

Their eyes lock and Charlotte tries to find the sign, the look in his eyes that will let her know he's just joking and she's supposed to laugh now and shove his shoulder, and then she can go back inside, unkissed.

But she doesn't find it.

"Are you serious?" she whispers.

"Hundred percent," he whispers back.

She doesn't entirely know why, but suddenly she's shifting, turning her body just enough so that she's facing him, too. "It won't be a thing? And you promise not to tell anyone? Ever?"

He holds his hand up in the space between them, extending his pinky to promise. She looks at it for a second and takes a deep breath before hooking her pinky with his. The familiar feeling of her little finger intertwined with his calms her for a moment.

Then he's leaning in.

There's no going back now, she realizes. Maybe she realizes it a little bit too late. Maybe she would've gotten her senses about her and vetoed the whole idea. But if she was going to do that, she should've done it long before, when his face wasn't lingering centimeters in front of hers. When his mouth wasn't so achingly far, even though he was right there. And there's no questioning the fact that she should've done it before he snuck his free hand, the one that wasn't still locked in their pinky promise, to the side of her face, burying his fingers in her curls and sending a shiver up her spine.

Because then he's kissing her, and she has no idea what on Earth he was talking about, because this... this is a _big_ _f—ing deal_. She has never been this close to someone; this connected. She doesn't want it to stop. His lips capture hers so softly, so expertly that even she is feeling pretty darn thankful for all those hours he's spent at the kissing rock. Only now, she's wishing maybe they were spent with her. Because he's really, really good at this.

The space between them is back far before she is ready to pull away, and it's a few seconds until she opens her eyes again. When she finally does, she unlinks their still-hooked pinkies and sheepishly turns away, pressing her lips together and secretly missing the sensation of his.

Henry clears his throat. She's waiting on him to say something to break the silence, like, 'See! Told ya!' or 'Hey, you're welcome, old-buddy-old-pal.' But he doesn't. He doesn't say anything.

"I guess you were right," she forces herself to croak out. "Totally not a big deal."

"Yep," he says, and turns away too, trying to both hide and ignore the reaction he was definitely, absolutely not expecting to have. "Just like I said. Not a big deal at all."

**Thanks x10000 for taking the time to read this! I really really hope you enjoyed it, and if you did, feel free to leave a review and let me know what you thought! They make my heart all warm n stuff. **

**Much love **


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